Without Consent
by Liso66
Summary: She may have had the best of intentions, but that doesn't mean it was the right thing to do. (Post ME3 battle) Rated T for now, but could change by the end to M. Family/hurt/comfort/friendships, and a touch of romance. I hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Without Consent**

"I do have one thing for you, Shepard. A gift. It will only take a moment, if you want it." Liara offered, her voice filled with sadness, trepidation, and resigned to an unknown fate.

Shepard rose an eyebrow, and asked. "What kind of gift?"

"Do you remember when I first joined my consciousness to yours? I can show you some of my own memories. Asari exchange them sometimes, with their friends, or the people they respect," Liara said with a sad smile. "It can also be a way to say, farewell."

Jane gave a gentle squeeze to her friend's hand. "I'd be honored."

They embraced, not for the first time, but this time would likely be the last. Liara coaxed Shepard to relax, and a within seconds, stars danced around the two women.

The surreal setting was a heady sensation. Velvety darkness enveloped them, while light and distant colors were displayed with panoramic views.

Shepard seemed awestruck and peaceful. Could she do this? Would her friend understand her reasoning? Liara could only hope. If Jane survived this battle, Liara would have a lot of explaining to do.

_I'll cross that bridge_… she mused at the human phrase, which seemed appropriate now.

Liara slowly pushed the joining. Melding Shepard's nervous system to her own needed to be subtle and unobtrusive.

Jane's eyelids fluttered and she let escape a low moan. Liara pulled back just slightly before either of them did something outside of the joining that would be embarrassing.

_Just a little longer…_

Everything clicked into place, and no one the wiser, besides herself. Liara felt the mapping of Shepard's physiology, and with a little finesse, she was able to achieve her heart's desire.

The two women broke apart, and Shepard took a deep breath. "That felt a little different this time."

Playing it cool, Liara explained. "I wasn't trying to untangle fifty thousand year old Prothean messages this time. The process was more enjoyable, don't you agree?"

Rubbing the back of her neck with a gloved hand, Shepard nodded and said. "Yeah… A little strange, though. Nice, but strange."

Liara hugged Jane and whispered. "Let's do this."

"I love you like a sister, Liara," Shepard said solemnly.

Jane went to walk away, and just as she punched the green halo on the sliding door, Liara called out.

"If you are not too keen on having me in the final run to the beam, I'd prefer to stay here with the wounded, and maybe help with barriers, if the need should arise."

Jane seemed to look straight through Liara, but then nodded. "The task is just as vital as shooting the enemy Liara. Do what you can for them, and stay safe."

"I will, and I'll try."

* * *

Three days… They'd waited three days since the Reapers were destroyed to hear anything regarding Shepard. Rescue teams were sent to the war-torn Citadel to search for survivors. Her team knew the truth, though, the main focus was on finding the commander.

And they had found her. When word came down to HQ, you could hear a pin drop. Everyone in proximity went silent.

Commander Jane Shepard's body had been found among the wreckage, and she was declared D.O.A. by an Alliance doctor once her body was brought to the makeshift hospital in London.

Admiral Hackett said a few words, but Garrus wasn't paying attention. Shepard was gone. And a world without her in it seemed unreal, impossible to fathom.

She was his rock, and he, hers. Fast friends, lovers, and then… everything. He couldn't word it any better. She was everything, and he knew, without a doubt, he was the same for her.

Condolence after condolence, pats on the shoulder, and sad faces of understanding; this went on for days. Every platitude became harder to bear than the last.

He couldn't take it any longer, so Garrus found the first Turian frigate headed for Palaven after his debriefing, and jumped aboard.

It would be a long flight home without the mass relays, but he didn't care. Maybe they had work he could bury himself in. It also helped that he didn't know a single Turian in this platoon, which suited him perfectly.

A young Turian saluted him in the mess hall. "Garrus Vakarian, sir."

He may not have known any of these soldiers, but it seemed he couldn't escape the fact that they knew him, or of him, anyway.

"Just Garrus. We're not at war, and I've declared myself a civilian," Garrus explained, and his request to not be called _Sir_ went ignored.

"Uh—" the female Turian stammered. "I don't think I can do that… sir."

He sighed. _Of course you can't._

"Was there something you needed? Maybe some work I can do? Guns I can calibrate, perhaps?" That last question almost got him to smile. Almost.

"No Sir, Garrus, sir. The captain said that you are an honored guest, and that we—I should try to make your journey as pleasant as possible," she informed him.

There was something in her tone… wait, no… "What exactly did your captain ask of you, private?"

The soft skin on her neck deepened in color, and Garrus knew what was asked of her. _Blowing off steam._

"I volunteered, actually," she sounded timid, but Garrus could tell that she spoke the truth.

Did they really think a tryst in some dark corner of the ship would ease his loss?

He needed to stop this servitude in its tracks. "You are… fit, and look like you can handle yourself," he praised, but unlike a human woman, Turian women responded better to their prowess, rather than how attractive you thought they were. "And while I appreciate the generous offer, I wouldn't be a good _sparring partner_ at this time."

She may have volunteered, but Garrus knew how it worked. She didn't choose this, but rather felt a duty, and if Turians were good at one thing, it was doing their duty. Not that he was very good at being a Turian. The love of his life was human, which was just at the top of the list of reasons why he wasn't a credit to his species.

She lowered her sub-harmonic tones seductively, trying to persuade him. "Are you sure?"

Garrus looked up at the harsh lighting, and closed his eyes. _Shepard, if you are up there in some sort of heaven, I know you're sipping on a cocktail, and laughing at this. _

When he looked back down at the woman, she had a hopeful glint in her eye. So that she didn't feel completely dejected, Garrus answered her ambiguously. "Maybe another time."

She cocked her head to the side, and her mandibles flared invitingly. "I'll hold you to that... My name's Valene."

If he wasn't mistaken, Valene sauntered off swaying her hips. How very… human. Odd.

_Right… To my quarters for some alone time_.

Because of his status among the Turian hierarchy, he was given a private bay for sleeping. It was small, clean, and had a no nonsense design. It made him long for the loft back on the Normandy.

He shook his head. _You've gone soft Vakarian. Missing comfortable beds, state of the art music players, even the empty fish tank's glow has made you indulgent._ He knew it was none of those things. He had grown so used to a certain soft human body curled up by his side while he slept, he'd trade every comfort known in the galaxy to feel her warmth next to him again.

Ghostly voices from earth started to echo through his thoughts.

_Hey, man. You Turians have a saying: She did what needed to be done, and that's what counts. _

Vega got punched in the face for that one. To give the jarhead his due, he shook it off and walked away. Garrus felt rather lucky in that instant. It could have gotten ugly. What made it worse, his own words came barreling back at him after the Primarch's son had been killed.

_She'll always be with us, Garrus. In some small way, Shepard will live on. _

Liara's words were, well, not comforting at all. They were rather odd.

_I'll miss her, too. She would want you to live your life, and find a new purpose. So don't let me find out you're wasting away in some place like Chora's Den, three sheets to the wind on Turian whiskey. I'll drag your bosh'tet hide out myself. _

Okay, he had to admit, he liked Tali's condolences aka threats, the best.

_In my cycle, humans thought sticks were weapons. The commander was most impressive. For a human. _

Garrus couldn't tell if that was a compliment or an insult. With Javik, you could never be too sure.

_If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm not that guy. If you want to get shit-faced and ogle half-naked Asari, I am that guy_.

Joker, flippant as ever, but Garrus knew the cocky pilot was feeling a great loss like the rest of them. He'd lost EDI, and as strange as their relationship was, they were a brilliant match.

_Man, this is awkward. Look Garrus, no hard feelings. I know what it is like to lose her. Twice. I was a fool, and I am glad she had you by her side. _

He would have liked to hate the man, but Alenko was hard to dislike, even when he was being a self-righteous ass.

He didn't want to think about it anymore. He was bone tired, and emotionally drained.

"_Babe, help a poor Turian out, and visit me in my dreams? I miss you, Jane."_

* * *

AN/ Thanks to Erynnar and my husband for their beta skills! xxx

This is a three chapter, short story. I hope you enjoy. Thank you.


	2. Romance Novels

**Romance Novels**

One hundred and ninety seven earth days had passed, and Palaven could be seen from the observation deck of the salvage frigate. Garrus stared at the planet he once knew as home, and felt a little numb.

His father and sister were back on the home world, and he was thankful they'd survived the war.

Solana, his sister, met and fell in love with a nurse that attended to her broken leg during the evacuation on Palaven, and in the last letter he'd received from her, they'd planned a small bonding ceremony. He would just make it in time for the celebrations. And… maybe a friendly interrogation of his new brother in-law.

Correspondence was slow coming, but it seemed techs weren't wasting no time fixing communication hubs. All galactic species teamed up to fight a war that threatened them all, and still, something magical was happing. They were still united with the rebuilding.

_You would be impressed, Shepard. I think the galaxy is going to be an amazing place to live. I wish you were here to witness it._

"You really, and truly loved the human, didn't you?"

Garrus looked to his side and saw Valene in a similar stance, while taking in the same vista. He'd spent several late nights chatting with the young private. She was ambitious, and planned a full military career, while still attending university. Her ultimate goal was to become a ship engine designer. There was no doubt the girl was gifted, and had a sharp wit with a tongue to match.

Gazing back out over Palaven, Garrus inhaled sharply. Thoughts of Jane were pleasurable mixed with deep, intense pain. "Irrevocably. And maybe you could stop calling her, _the human_?"

Shifting, Valene leaned against the observation window. "So, you and _Shepard _hadone of those epic loves like you read in human romance novels?"

He couldn't help but look down at her. His incredulous laughter made the skin on her neck darken, and she had emphasized Jane's name. "You read human romance novels?"

She seemed flustered with him now. "Humans are… interesting! We don't have stories like theirs. Not even the Asari write about tragic love like humans do. A girl needs more than war strategy, and engineering manuals to fill her off time! "

"Tragic, huh?" His personal story must really fascinate her. "Why not happily ever afters?"

Her eyes seemed to brighten, and Garrus had to focus to keep up once she started talking about Romeo and Juliet, Cleopatra and Mark Antony, Tristan and Isolde, and the list went on. He had no idea who she'd been quoting, though, she was certainly passionate about it.

"You sort of remind me of her, in a way," Garrus appraised. "You're both smart-asses, and have the intellect to back it up."

Her throaty chuckle was pleasant to hear. "I'll take that as a compliment, I think."

"It was," he affirmed. "No one could sass the council like Jane, or spectacularly disconnect comm links when she thought they were being idiots."

Her mandibles flared several times. "That is a true story, then? She hung up on the council?"

"More than once, if I recall," he said with amusement. "She also flipped them, as she called it, _the bird_. I never understood why it was called that. A human thing I suppose. It looked nothing like a bird I've ever seen"

She shifted her weight again, this time leaning closer to him, Garrus felt awkward and tense, but didn't want to hurt her feelings by taking a step back. She'd not offered to 'blow off steam' with him since that first night, but she would seek him out once her shift had ended often enough that he feared she may have developed a crush.

"What are your plans, now that you're not flying around with a notorious hero saving the galaxy?"

Garrus cleared his throat at her choice of words. "Notorious?"

"As I see it, it could be viewed both ways," she paused and risked a glance up at him, then shifted herself to face him. "She was famous, sure, but her missions were often questionable by Turian protocol standards."

"Our standards of protocol aren't exactly all that forgiving. There is no black and white in war, regardless of what our war manuals say."

His tone turned acerbic, and there was no reason to defend Shepard. So much of the war had been put upon her, and she got the damn job done, forfeiting her own life in the process.

"She took so much on to herself," he gazed off, focusing on his home planet in the distance. "Every damn species wanted something from her before they'd help save their own sorry lives. The Krogan wanted a cure for the genophage. The Geth wanted to live mentally independent of one another. The Quarians wanted their home world back, and the Asari and Salarians… well, they were more worried about their secrets than the galaxy getting torn to shreds."

"We were the first to agree to help," she inserted proudly.

"At a price," he said bemused. "It was a long line of hands being held out, and her getting everything everyone wanted before they would join in. The threat of galactic annihilation wasn't enough, it seems. We were no better. We were just the first to pony up, asking for favors."

"Pony up?" She asked, confused.

"Human phrase. You live with them long enough, they tend to rub off on you."

She had the decency to sound contrite. "I'm sorry, Garrus. You know how stories change once they'd trickle down from the main sources and get to the rest of us."

"Now you know," he said with a sigh. "And Valene?"

"Yeah?"

He flared his mandibles, indicating a grin. "Thanks for not calling me, _sir_."

_Comm Systems: All parties departing by shuttle, you have one hour before departure. All crew awaiting a relief team so that you can take shore leave, you will be departing at 08:00 Palaven time. _

"I guess that's me," Garrus said. He laid his hand on Valene's shoulder. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime. Take care, kid."

A Turian equivalent of an eye roll made him laugh. "I'm a grown woman, Vakarian. It would do you well to remember that. Sir."

"Yep, a smart-ass."

He left her standing on the observation deck. It was time to go home, whatever that meant now. Nowhere felt like home since the war ended—since her life ended.

He shook off the melancholy and went to gather his gear. Palaven would be a devastation to behold, but at least it was over.

* * *

AN/ The story grew a bit. I decided to add a few personal, featured character chapters, and some events they experience before the big reveal, and ending. :)

Special thanks goes out to my amazing husband. He is my grammar police!

Thank you all for stopping by, reviewing, and following. Hope you enjoy.


	3. Father's and Monasteries

**Aethyta: Fathers and Monasteries**

Aethyta swore up at the skies after landing on Lesuss. Of all the damn places to meet, Liara chose this shithole? Only one known Ardat-Yakshi existed, and as luck would have it, bad luck at that, she survived the war.

'_Benezia, you raised her, and now I am here a hundred and nine years later trying to pick up post war pieces with our kid? I swear, by the goddess, you've got some explaining to do in the afterlife.'_

Parts of the monastery were in ruins, but some areas remained unscathed. Her people baffled her; she never understood why a structure so grand had been used to house a few Ardat-Yakshi. Centuries ago, it accommodated priestesses of the old faith, and the planet itself was considered sacred ground. Now, though, it was an Asari peoples dirty little secret.

She had her own theory about the Ardat-Yakshi. She didn't think it was a hereditary mutation, or whatever the hell they were claiming caused the soul sucking blood lust. Aethyta felt it was within all of them, but some succumbed to the dark side of their melding abilities. For all her people knew, there could be several more out there on the fringes taking lives no one paid any heed to.

Oddly, the monastery was relatively clean. There were no rotted bodies desiccating the exterior or interior to be found. Someone had been cleaning this place up. It seemed the only logical explanation. Liara had told her to expect a gruesome scene, but this was downright sterile compared to what she'd anticipated.

_Huh_, she pondered. _Even the empty, unused beds are made. That's… just creepy. _

Footsteps echoed from across the main hall she'd been exploring. Her biotics flared in defense, and turned to look out over the expansive room. There were a lot of places one could hide in the shadows.

"Show yourself, or I've got a ball of energy ready to soar up your ass. Unless you're a Hanar, in which case, I'll fry your tentacles instead."

Shiny, scarlet leather armor, filled with a sexy as hell body stepped out from the shadows. "I would highly advise that you put your little ball back in its box, and greet me with respect."

If loins could set aflame, Aethyta's were an inferno of passionate memories. "Well, I'll be damned, if it isn't the Justicar of my dreams," she winked suggestively. "My naughtiest dreams, that is."

Samara gave her a crooked smile and sauntered closer, a familiar gait Aethyta would never forget. "That is more a salacious invitation, than a proper greeting."

"When it comes to you, babe, they are one in the same," Aethyta said with fiery intent."

The Justicar reached out and stroked the Matriarch's cheek with the tips of her fingers. "As fond a memory I have of our time together, I must ask, why have you come here?"

Letting out a raspy sigh, Aethyta shrugged. "My kid asked me to meet her here, and before you ask, I haven't a damn clue why. Her message was cryptic, to say the least."

"And yet you still came," Samara nodded in understanding. "My youngest is here, and I have come to…"

"To? Make sure she isn't planning a vacation away for some fun and frolicking? Or maybe you're worried she's gonna take up half-naked dancing for a living?"

"I do not find your mockery humorous," Samara said with a cold calm. "Morinth is dead, by my own hands, and Rila has joined the goddess. Falere is young, and needs guidance. "

"I heard. My daughter told me while I was working at Apollo's on the Citadel."

Samara raised a brow, "And why would a matriarch take employment in such a place? Unless—"

"Yeah," Aethyta cut her off. "The matriarch's were nervous about my kid. She's got herself positioned in a place of questionable power. Enormous power, and the big-tits high up were getting their tight asses in a twist."

"Liara is a remarkable young woman," Samara commented, and chuckled at Aethyta's surprised expression. "She had come with Shepard to investigate this place during the war. They saved my youngest, and me."

"Mmm-mmm-mmm," Aethyta said hungrily. "Shepard was a fine piece of—"

Biotics flared, and Aethyta found herself flat on her backside. "Respect the dead. Shepard was a woman of honor and sacrifice. I will not allow you to besmirch her name with your racious and lewd overtures."

"Calm down, babe. Goddess! When did you get so uptight?" Aethyta picked herself up off the floor, and brushed the dust off her bum. "She may be dead, but it doesn't change the fact she was smokin' hot and deadly sexy. And you can get as self-righteous as you want, but I know you, Justicar, you probably thought the same thing while flying all over the galaxy with her, facing uncertain odds. You get off on that kind of thrill."

Samara lifted her head in defiant pride. "Falere is preparing a meal. You are welcome to join us, if you can behave yourself."

"I may end up starving," Aethyta muttered.

Pulling out her pocket console, she sent Liara a message.

_Hey kid. Dad here. I'm at the monastery, and you'll never guess who was here when I arrived. Well, maybe you would, seeing you two have history in this place already. Give your 'ole dad a ping when you land._

* * *

AN/ Short but sweet. I found it rather fun to write an Aethyta POV. I may have to write more about her in the future!

Thank you for stopping by, adding to favorites, follows, and the reviews. I hope you enjoy!


	4. Brokering a Broker

**Liara: Brokering a Broker**

Striking a deal with the ship's captain had been easy, given the resources Liara could offer. Several markers for hidden caches of food, and supplies had paid her and her companion's way on board.

Private sector militia chief and the ship's captain, Jemma Bynes, had organized an evacuation of the colony, New Canton during the Collector abductions. She'd joined the war against the Reapers on the day Earth had been attacked.

New Canton was a human colony world on the edge of the frontier, Terminus Systems, and they weren't policed or governed by council space, nor by the Alliance. There were several human settlements carving out their own worlds and forming governments free of Earth's politics and control.

Bynes had a small fleet of ships that once patrolled the colony's satellites, and defense stations. After Shepard had returned from the Omega 4 relay, word had spread throughout the Terminus Systems, and several groups readied their forces

Not everyone lived in denial, and those that believed the Reapers were coming, took action without Alliance support.

"I'll be close by if you need assistance, at least for now, and then I'll only be a terminal away," Liara reassured her most trusted agent. "Feron, I know you can do this."

Her career as the Shadow Broker had to be passed on to someone capable. Liara's future had changed, which required her to step down, and hand over the reins.

"I was happy to be an agent, Liara, but this? I don't feel nearly prepared for an undertaking this enormous."

She sighed, not for the first time. They'd spent hours in close quarters going over the delicate nature of being the Shadow Broker.

"You need someone with a longer lifespan, too. Drells live shorter lives than humans. I'm not the logical choice."

"I know, but…" And she'd already thought about this in the long term. A was a most unlikely candidate before the war, now sat prominently at the top of her list.

Feron stopped his agitated pacing, and sat down next to her, his ridged brow wrinkled in confusion. "If you know, then why me? It makes no sense."

It made perfect sense. To her, anyway.

"Look, Feron. I have another Asari in mind, and I believe it could be the best case scenario, but not until I can get a better, more personal feel for her, and make sure my instincts are on point. She'll need to be groomed, and we need the mass relays, and quantum entanglement communications are back online and fully functional. That will take some time for the council races to achieve."

"So I am a stand-in until that happens?" he surmised. "If you promise to get right on this as soon as…" he started and then glanced down at her swollen midsection, "once you've taken care of other things."

Placing a hand over his, Liara gave him her word. She knew he was at odds with the actions she'd taken, and the choices she'd made. She knew full well that many who cared about her would understand neither.

_And there was one—one that would likely want her head if he knew. _

"Lesuss is less than a half light year away. Captain Bynes will be thrilled to unload all the extra weight off her ship. My father has sent a message. Aethyta landed safely and is already setting up living quarters for us."

It was time to pack up, and make the best out of her temporary, new home.

"And what of the _other _occupants residing there? Feron asked. "Are they going to be a problem?"

She stood, and walked over to a port window, staring out at the stars. "I don't believe so, but if they are… let's hope the Justicar will mind her own business, and we won't have to eliminate any complications."

"Eliminate?" he repeated questioningly.

Liara ignored his startled query. "Go and get packed, also, ready the mechs for departure. And for now, let me be the one to worry about possible difficulties."

* * *

**Aethyta: Humdingers**

Waiting at the shuttle landing gave her too much idle time. Aethyta's imagination had gone into hyper drive, and pondering the reasons her kid had been unforthcoming why she wanted to meet here. She'd done as instructed, and set up a private area of the monastery as a living quarter.

_I swear, Nezi, if she married an Elcor, or got herself knocked up by a Batarian, I'll haunt your ghost when I die, and yeah, you'll get all of the blame. _

Engine thrusters pulsed, bringing Aethyta away from her wild worries. When the shuttle landed, a young, handsome Drell stepped out.

_Can't argue with her choices there, I'd do him, too. _

Four powered up mechs filed out carrying large crates. The Drell had them set the heavy boxes down, and programmed them to retrieve more from within the shuttle.

After the mechs made a few trips in and out of the craft, Liara finally made an appearance.

In less than a nanosecond, Aethyta spotted the swell of her daughter's abdomen. Five, maybe six months along? Well, hell. There's much to be said for having an overactive imagination. It seemed her mind was _just_ active enough.

Aethyta couldn't take her eyes off Liara's growing belly.

"Father," she said with a demand for attention. "We'll talk about it once Feron and I've settled in."

She blinked up at her daughter and recovered her shock. "Yeah, sure kid," she agreed and then pointed over towards the Drell. "If that's your man, then I approve. That is one fine—"

"Father!" Liara admonished. "Feron is a friend, and colleague. I wish you'd not be so tactless."

She laughed at her daughter's indignation. "If you wanted tact, you picked the wrong parent to shack up with, kiddo."

"Yes… well. We have more unloading to do, and perhaps afterward, you can lead us to where you've chosen to set up accommodations?"

She nodded in agreement, and Liara went back to her task. Watching her daughter dole out orders gave her a thrill of pride. Her baby girl was so young by Asari standards, but damn, she was powerful and so incredibly focused.

_Nezi, I see so much of you in her. You did good, babe. _

The shuttle powered up, and they all stepped back away from the lift-off blast. Once the craft was out of range of the landing area, Aethyta had Liara and Feron follow her.

"We'll go a roundabout way," Aethyta instructed as they turned left and stepped into a service elevator. "The controls for these lifts were fried, but it seems Falere has a knack for mechanical engineering. Too bad she's a deadly, compulsive killer. Our species could use more skilled minds, and less half-naked blue asses prancing about."

"As long as she keeps her distance, we'll not interrupt her life here.

The matriarch glanced back at Liara. "She's not so bad, kid. Her control is impressive, if you ask me. Self-loathing of what you are can do that to a person. Either that, or you end up the monster everyone expects you to be."

"That," Liara started to say. She stopped and looked at her father thoughtfully. "You surprise me with your insightfulness, and philosophies. They tend to stand out amongst all the bawdy and racious comments."

"Yeah, well, you don't live nearly a thousand years without picking up a thing or two along the way."

"Hey Drell," Aethyta called from behind and startled the man who'd not said a word since landing. "You sticking around a while?"

"His name is Feron, father," Liara corrected. "Be nice, please?"

She let out an exasperated breath. "Kid, if I wasn't being nice, he'd have already been a pile of biotic goo because I believed he helped knock you up when you first stepped off the shuttle."

"It's not like that between us, Matriarch," Feron finally spoke. "I respect your daughter, even if I don't always agree with her decisions."

Aethyta blew out a low whistle. "Something tells me there is a whole helava lot more to your news than just the obvious."

Liara shot Feron a disapproving glare, which her father hadn't missed.

_Nezi, I hope wherever you are, you're able to listen in. I have a feeling this is gonna be a humdinger of a story._

* * *

_AN/ Thank you for all the wonderful comments, follows, and adding to favorites! _

_Special thanks to Wintryone, and my husband for giving this chapter the once over! _


	5. Memoirs

**Garrus: Memoirs**

Months had passed, three, maybe four since he'd arrived on Palaven. Garrus sat at his terminal and looked down at the calendar display. It had been eight months and eleven days since _that_ fateful night. How many more days, weeks, or months would pass before the ache in his chest would ease up.

"Garrus," his sister's voice tore him away from unseeing what was on his terminal screen. "Dad cooked, so fair warning."

It didn't matter that his father prepared the meal. His mother had been the cook in the family, and his sister a close second. All food had no discernable flavors; he'd eat because he had to, not because there was any pleasure in it.

"Turians don't mope," Solana chided. "How long are you going to go on like this?"

"I'm not moping," he said defensively. "I'm brooding, which is completely different."

He watched as she flopped down on the couch in his room. _Wonderful,_ _now she wants to talk_.

"I'll not admit that I understand your love for that human—"

Garrus stood abruptly and slammed his fist down on his desk. "I swear, Solana, if you call her _that human _one more time, I'm going to go live with the Quarians and become a farmer."

She snorted and then started to laugh.

"Glad I amuse you."

"Dear brother," she said through her chuckling. "You do not know the first thing about dirt, let alone planting something in it and getting it to grow. Remember that flower… oh Spirits, what was her name? The gangly girl from secondary school? Anyway, she gave you a flower and you tossed it in a footlocker!"

"I was fourteen," he said flatly.

"Yes, and you're not a teenager now, so quit with the sullen crap and get a life already," she barked out, none too kindly. "I never knew Shepard, and I wished I had so I could understand your melancholy. But Garrus, you are alive, and if she is even half the woman all of the stories claim her to be, what would she say about you holed up and alone all the time?"

He knew exactly what she'd say.

Garrus sighed deeply, and leaned his head against a bookshelf. "She'd tell me to stay sharp, and get my head back in the game. Live my life, because she needs me to be okay, or it was all for nothing."

"I like her already, and I'm not saying that just to make you feel better," Solana remarked. She pushed herself off the couch and stood next to him. "Brother, you've been careening since you arrived. What are you going to do with your life?"

He looked over at his console, now pinging with new messages. "First, I'm going to check the inordinate amount of messages I have piling up, and then I'll eat dinner. Maybe once I master those two tasks, I'll write my memoirs, and become famous and wealthy."

"Let me know how that works out for you, brother. Delyn should be ending his shift, and we are meeting up to look for places to build our house. The agent has a few plots to show us this evening."

As she went to turn away, Garrus gently grabbed her arm, and tried to pull her into a hug.

"What are you doing?" Solana jerked back and the look of alarm made him laugh, truly laughed for the first time since… "They're called hugs. Humans are big into their friendly embraces."

"Why?" she asked skeptically.

"To show affection," Garrus said with a shrug. "I've grown fond of the little ritual."

Taking another step back, Solana held out her hands in front of her. "Maybe another time, brother. Just keep _those _strange rituals in check for now."

Again, he burst out into laughter. "I'll get a hug from you sooner or later. Sol. And sis?"

"Yeah?"

Garrus swooped in and took hold of her, wrapping his arms about her waistline, and picking her up off the floor. She screamed, her sub-harmonics reaching an impressive fever pitch. She slapped him ineffectually, though, he realized she was laughing, too.

"Thanks," he told her while placing her feet back on the ground.

She gave him a sisterly shove. "I think you spent too much time with humans _and_ the Krogan, you big brute

"Spent too much time with Brutes, too." he teased.

After she left him alone in his room, his private place to brood—because there was no way he'd ever admit to moping, her visit helped. He felt a little lighter, and no longer wanting to squander away in his self-imposed isolation.

Sitting back down at his terminal, he scanned through the messages, archiving the ones he'd read later. The first of several letters was from Tali.

_Hey, you Bosh'tet_

_If you don't start answering my messages, I'm going to hop on a flight out and come tell your sister some of your less appealing exploits during the war. I'm not above blackmail, Vakarian. _

_Please let me know you're okay, and that you are finding some semblance of a life again. _

_Tali_

_PS: Have you heard from Liara? She'd promised to scavenge up whatever contacts she had left, and try to procure some equipment for the rebuilding here. She's not answering a single message. I'm starting to worry. _

Huh, how very Tali.

_You wound me, Masked Avenger._

_I'll not lie and say it's been easy, but I believe it is getting better. Strange about Liara, she's usually so dependable. _

_How goes the rebuilding? Have a house with a view, yet? _

_-G_

The next message was somewhat unexpected.

_Hey, hombre! _

_What gives? Don't be an asno, and answer a message once in a while. The N school training has been kickin' my ass, and I'm lovin' it. _

_We're talking about a crew reunion, man. Once the mass relays are all up and running, we'll talk about a when and where. _

_Laterz_

_Vega – N7 FNG_

Spirits, a reunion? Maybe he'll luck out and the relays would take a few extra years before they're all fully functional.

_Vega_

_Even with N7 training, I'd still take you down. At the very least, I'd still have better stories. _

_Seriously though, congratulations. Give 'em hell. _

_PS: What's a FNG?_

_-G_

If he'd not seen it with his own eyes, he'd never believed it. He cautiously opened the next message, as if it could be a hoax, or maybe a virus.

_Garrus Vakarian_

_This is Admiral Steven Hackett of the Alliance Navy._

_I am at an impasse here, and unsure which course of action to take. Doctor Liara T'Soni has gone off the grid. We had several plans in the works, and she is in possession of some delicate information, also, resources we here at the Alliance were counting on. _

_If you have any information on her whereabouts, or last known location, I would be personally grateful. _

_Alliance Command_

Two people unable to contact T'Soni, and the fact the big brass at Alliance command messaged him, it couldn't be a coincidence.

Scanning through the rest of his messages, he found it odd there was nothing from Liara. Although, it's not like he'd been reaching out to anyone else, either.

He hit the compose icon.

_Subject: Come on, T'Soni. What gives?_

_Liara_

_Garrus here. Seems you have people looking for you, and I believe there is even a little worry. Let us know you're alive and kicking._

_-G _

There were a few more messages to get through, but his father interrupted, shouting out a last chance for dinner before he disposed of the remaining leftovers. He shut down his terminal and surprised himself; he really was looking forward to sitting at the table with his dad, and sharing an awful meal.

Walking towards the dining room, his thoughts drifted back to Liara. Something about the search for her was niggling at him. It was out of character for her to be so inconsiderate to others, and not at least reply to them.

A gut feeling told him something was off, and then he'd remembered Shepard had EDI put a locator in Glyph's system without Liara's knowledge.

She adored the doc, but during the time she'd spent with Liara, helping her take down the Shadow Broker, Jane felt a slight unease about her friend. All she could say: it was a gut feeling, and she couldn't put her figure on it.

Garrus learned a long time ago, Jane's belly had about a ninety-nine percent accuracy when it came to her intuition.

Forgetting all about his dinner, Garrus turned back to his room and fired up the terminal.

_Subject: Babble box. _

_Joker, Garrus here. _

_Send me the game, the babble box? You remember, the one EDI created for us when we were between missions._

_-G_

Joker would know what he'd asked for, and how to send it. Shepard trusted very few people one hundred percent, and her pilot had made the short list.

* * *

Thank you all! The awesome reviews, adds to favs, and follows are so heart warming! 

Special thanks to my husband for his late night beta!


	6. Pandora's Box

**Garrus: Pandora's Box**

It had taken nearly two earth weeks for Joker to come through, sending EDI's tracking program, along with a short message. Garrus noticed the detachment in the few words he tapped out in his reply. The snarky-go-lucky pilot wasn't handling the post-war losses any better than he was.

After decrypting the program, and loading it into a tracking device, Garrus projected a mini galaxy map on the wall in his room. He punched in the sequence for the program to start tracking Glyph's whereabouts. Hopefully T'Soni still relied on her V.I. for all the boring data sorting.

With repairs on quantum entanglement still an ongoing task, the tracking could take a while. It wasn't like Garrus had been doing much else to take up his time, and secretly, he had hoped the tracking software would come up with solid results. He could use a good reason to get away, and get his mind off other things. Also, he needed some alone time to think about what he really wanted to do with his life without his sister and father offering their advice on a daily basis.

Soft chimes drew his attention away from the galaxy map. Garrus looked around the room, baffled by the noise. It was faint, and muffled. He followed the sound, and realized it was coming from his gear locker. When he punched in the code to release the lock, something buried shone out from under a piece of armor.

_I have a prezzy for you. _

_Sorry, Shepard. A what? The translator missed that one. _

_Oops, sorry about that. A gift. I saw it and thought… this is ass kicking and my sexy boyfriend would look hot in it!_

_You got me a gift? Is it a new sniper rifle—because you know how much I love my Black Widow. I could never cheat on her. _

Jane had the best eye rolls. At times, he would provoke her just to see the very human display of annoyance. It was really cute.

_You can't cheat on a weapon, you goober. _

_Does goober mean, sexy, deadly, and best interspecies boyfriend, ever?_

_Sure… We'll go with that. Now open the box! _

Reaching into his locker, he ran a talon over the smoky gray armor, feeling the chips and indents from bullets the plating saved him from.

_Do you like it? It's called Terminus armor. _

_You have a blue set like this, and if memory serves, you never wear it. _

_I know, but it was a gift, and it's too heavy for me. Every time I set my cloaking, it interferes with it. But for you, it's perfect! _

He liked the armor, more than liked it. He wore it on the next mission out, which was the right call. Shepard had an appreciative gleam in her eyes when she first set eyes on him wearing it. Later, after the mission… turned out well, and that was icing on the cake, as she would say.

_You're right, of course, as always. It is perfect. Now… is this where your boyfriend gets to do the romantic thing and kiss his girl for the thoughtful gift?_

_No… This is where you come up to my cabin, and strut your sexy Turian ass off in this new armor so that I can take it off, slowly, piece by piece. _

Spirits! He really missed her.

The chiming became persistent, demanding his attention. Falling back into those old memories, somehow blocked out everything around him. Idly, he wondered what the Drell experienced when going into solipsism. He could view this as a blessing, simply to call up every detail, scent, and sensation? Perhaps it was a curse, as well.

Rummaging through his armor, he located the source of the glow. His omni-tool chip was still affixed into one of his gauntlets. After plucking it out, he opened it up and a single message had been sent to him.

_**To: Garrus Vakarian.**_

_**Subject: Priority delivery**_

_I am yeoman, Derrek Price of the Alliance Navy. We on the SSV Washington have been tasked with assessing our casualties, procuring personal effects, and dropping off packages if our route allows it. _

_Lieutenant Commander, Jane Shepard had a last will and testament. Admiral Hackett sealed the document, along with the contents bequeathed to you. Our shuttle has been dispatched to Palaven, and you can pick up the parcel at the main outpost in your capital city, Cipritine. _

_With respect, and our condolences._

_Alliance HQ. _

Odd that they would post a message to his registered omni-tool. Why wouldn't Hackett have just told him in the extranet mail he'd sent? Perhaps he wasn't sure if the crew would make it here or not.

When did Jane make up a will, one that would include him in it? Why would she hide this from him?

_Because she recognized there was a prospect she'd fail, you imbecile. A chance no one would survive. But in case he had… she wouldn't put that kind of worry or heavy thoughts on your shoulders. It was very—Shepard like_.

'You wanted something to do, Vakarian. Be careful what you ask for.'

Placing the armor pieces back in the locker, he went to look for his father. It hadn't been difficult, his father was perched in front of the vid screen, watching Adrien Victus give a speech on the Turian news channel. Since he chose retirement, his father fell into a predictable routine. Breakfast, workout, shower, and the news channel.

When did the man get to be so old?

_The Turian people stand proud, and our galactic relations with all species will only promote growth and unity galaxy wide. _

Primarch Victus' closing comments of his speech sounded like someone else… Another one of _her_ influences. Garrus flared his mandibles, a goofy grin full of pride. _That's my girl. _

"Hey, dad," he'd waited till Adrien had finished. "Do you have plans? I need the skycar for the day."

His father turned to him. "What for? If you're going to town, there's a data list on the refrigeration unit. And stop in and see if that bastard, Grerial has my comm pad fixed yet."

Garrus sighed. "How does your best friend of forty years get called a bastard every time you get in a mood?"

"You should hear what he calls me. I'm the nice one."

"Right… I hadn't planned on going into town. I'm flying to Cipritine. Seems an Alliance ship is making rounds, dropping off important packages, and gathering Intel on their casualties."

"In that case, stay out of the bars, and if you see any tech stalls open, get me a deal on a new comm pad. Mine is too old, anyway."

"Sure…" Garrus drawled. "I'll get right on that. And I promise I'll only get slightly drunk while handling your skycar."

"Smartass."

As he grabbed the control chip for the skycar, he couldn't help but get in the last word. "I've learned from the best… dad."

Before his father could reply, he briskly left the house.

While navigating his way to Cipritine, he considered what could be in the package from Shepard. She hadn't kept much on the Normandy. Her personal effects were few. Some civilian clothes, womanly things, and a few trinkets from her travels.

This was either going to be cherished memories, or Pandora's Box of emotional pain.

_What is a 'Pandora's Box'?_

_Human mythology. You know, all evil and world ending. To open the box would be severely detrimental and have far-reaching consequences._

_Is all human mythology full of doom and gloom?_

_Only the best stories._

He laughed at the memory, but thinking about the contents awaiting him, could he handle going through the things she'd personally left for him, yet?

* * *

AN? What's in the box? We'll know soon! Until then, thank you all for the great comments. I'm having a lot of fun with this little tale, which grew larger than I had initially expected. All the awesome feedback is fuel to my muse!

Beta-riffic thanks to my husband! You rock, babe!


	7. Gardening Tips

**Falere: Gardening Tips**

Overwhelming, all of it. These new people within such close proximity, and her mother keeping a keen eye on the simplest act, or move she made. Falere hadn't felt the desire to meld with anyone. She could resist, and she would insofar they had not caused temptation.

If she were to be honest with herself, she had no idea what sort of provocation it would take for her to fail resisting the temptations she'd fought so hard against.

She'd been observing the newcomers, especially the young, pregnant Asari. They'd met once before under terrible circumstances. Even then, this Liara person made her edgy. Her reverence for Shepard felt a little creepy, and coming from an Ardat-Yakshi, well, you had to appreciate the irony in that one.

Anyone could see the youthful Asari was in love with the Commander, though Shepard had another with her, a Turian male, and Falere was fairly certain that was where the human's heart belonged.

Entering the greenhouse had always been relaxing. Falere spent many hours growing various herbs, Thessian fruits and vegetables, and a few other world plants.

During the Reaper forces attack, several of the vital systems had been damaged. Falere employed her tech abilities to repair the thermal heating for the greenhouse, and the watering system. Without it, fresh food would be diminished down to dry protein packets, and the disgusting veggie bars.

The new residents had best planned on helping with the gardening, or she'd be handing out the storage rations to whomever didn't pitch in.

"The foliage appears to be very healthy, you must have the touch."

Falere jumped with a start. "Goddess!" she yelped and looked over to see the Drell standing casually against the opened door. "Do you always sneak up on people like that?

Feron tilted his head and shot her an amused grin. "I wasn't sneaking, you were just highly unaware. And the name is Feron, if you would please."

"Fine," she said with annoyance. "Feron…"

Dropping the freshly picked herbs into a container, she brushed off her hands and picked up an aerating tool and pushed it into the Drell's hands. "If you're going to meander about, then make yourself useful. The dirt needs broken up so air and water can better penetrate it."

He tossed the tool in the air, flipping it several times, and catching it by the handle as it came back down. He went to work on the first boxed plot. "My mother had a garden. I spent several hours tending to it as a child, especially if I got into trouble, and it was a form of punishment. I think back on that now, though, and I believe they were just keeping me busy because they weren't sure what else to do with me."

"Do you always prattle like this with complete strangers?" she asked while pruning a fruit vine. "If you want to compare mommy issues, I believe I'll win."

Gah! There it was again, his infernal grin.

"I don't have mommy issues, as you put it. I loved her very much, and she was an excellent role model."

"Okay… Daddy issues, then?"

He looked thoughtfully at her before answering. "Can you have an issue with someone you've never met, or know nothing about?"

Falere shrugged. "Good question. I don't know anything about mine, either. As for my mother, well, _impossible to live up to_, comes to mind."

"She is rather intimidating, isn't she?" Feron hedged carefully with her, which only made her want to laugh.

"Not from my perspective, no. Learn her code, and don't break it in front of her. She's not forgiving when it comes to those damnable rules she follows."

Feron scrubbed a hand over his face, smearing dirt over his cheek. "I suppose I should do some research on the matter."

Shaking her head, she walked over and went to wipe the smudge off the Drell's face, which obviously was an error on her part. He jumped back and rose his hand defensively.

"You had dirt…" she started to explain. "Oh, forget it. Here," and she thrust a cloth in his hand, and then pointed to where the gardening gloves were stored. "And for the record, if I wanted to scramble your brains through tawdry mind melding, you'd already be dead."

Anger coupled with embarrassment sent her running out of the hothouse, and somewhere she didn't have to see that look on another's face. Fear. Straight up terror. Her gait picked up speed and she found herself in the temple where the ancient priestesses used to pray.

Seemed fitting.

Sliding down next to one of the statues, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

'_Goddess, why does one like me exist? I don't want a life without companionship, or love. What could I have possibly done to be born with such an accursed affliction?' _

No answers. There were never any answers. Why anyone believed in these religions or deities, was beyond her. Countless times she'd prayed, and no epiphany or even a simple sign had been shown to her.

Shuffling of booted feet echoed, and then the familiar scent of her mother tickled her nose. She hadn't opened her eyes. "Mother."

Samara took a seat on the floor next to her, and her steady breaths were somewhat comforting.

"I could not help but overhear. I came to find you after seeking you out in the gardens. Young Feron is feeling rather guilty for his behavior, and I believe he is sorry."

"Why?" she asked sadly. "He should fear my touch, they all should."

"Falere!" Samara scolded. "Fear of you is reasonably prudent without knowing you, the woman you've managed to become in spite of your inner nature."

"They don't know anything about me, or how I was not forced to be here, and have chosen my life of solitude. They don't know that becoming a monster like Morinth, repulses me."

She watched her mother stand, and then offer a hand for her to rise as well. A rare thing happened then, her mother pulled her into an embrace. Softly, she spoke. "Then show them you have more to offer, and that this life is one you have chosen not to succumb to. Show your strength and compassion, Falere, because I know it's there. I also know the demons you fight every day. I am in awe of you, daughter."

**Aethyta: Too Many Cooks**

Glyph came floating into the kitchen and hovered near the prep table where Aethyta had been chopping vegetables. "Matriarch Aethyta. May I be of assistance?"

"Don't tell me you can cook. You have no hands."

"My platform hinders my ability to prepare food, but I have catalogued two thousand and twenty six Asari recipes, including delicacies."

"I've got it covered, Floaty," she said with a disbelieving shake of her head. "I'll take some music while I work, if you have anything good."

"Excellent!" Glyph's vocal tones expressed excitement. "What would you like to hear? I have several renditions of the Elcor mating mood music, performed by the Emotionally Elated Orchestra. There is also Commander Shepard's playlist, your daughter's, and the Normandy's AI, EDI stored in my archives."

"Really? You have Elcor mating music? For Goddess' sake, who had you download that?"

"It was found while searching the Citadel archives. I found a most enlightening totem used to promote potency and fertility."

"How about some soft club music, and leave the Elcor a mystery for now."

An excellent choice, Matriarch. And would you like me to plan your daughter's party?"

"Why on Thessia would we throw her a party?" She was never going to get this food prepared at this rate. Now the damn floater wanted to plan parties.

"It is a human custom to throw a new mother to be a party to celebrate her first born. I have catalogued several hundred party themes, games, and menus for such an event."

"Liara ain't human," Aethyta pointed out.

"Of course she is not human—she is an Asari," Glyph agreed as if it were obvious. "However, Commander Shepard _is_ human. Perhaps we can locate Asari customs for the event, and blend them."

"I know I am going to regret asking, but, what does Shepard being human have anything to do with my grandkid being born?"

Glyph's halo lighting flickered several times. Aethyta would have sworn the damn thing was confused.

"In human customs, with two females in the relationship, both would be considered the mother. The Commander cannot be here. She is deceased. I found no protocol under these circumstances. I assumed Doctor T'Soni would wish to include the other parent, if only in memory."

"The… Son of a Krogan! You've got to be shitting thresher maw turds!" The Matriarch bellowed. "Shepard is the… other mother? Are you sure Floaty, without a doubt?"

The damn ball flickered some more, and bounced in the air several times before replying. "Earth: the final battle before Shepard led the ground team to her death, but not before saving the galaxy. Doctor T'Soni and Commander Shepard shared an Asari bonding. It was quite interesting. I had not realized the Commander and her Turian were no longer mating."

Maybe the VI was mistaken. "How do you know Doctor T'Soni had mated with Shepard? How can you be sure?"

Within seconds, Glyph started to replay a vid, which by all accounts had been disturbing. Why the VI felt the need to make a video made no sense. Posterity, maybe?

As difficult as it is to watch your own kid mate-melding, Aethyta forced herself to watch. But one thing was clear, now she understood why her daughter kept the parentage to herself.

"Holy Goddess. My girl has some explaining to do."

Abandoning the food on the prep table, Aethyta made her way to the shared quarters with her daughter. Her intuition kicked in: Shepard would not have agreed to this, had she known. She was so besotted over the damn Turian, there was no way…

Arriving at their quarters, Aethyta casually walked in, her daughter hard at work at a terminal, doing goddess knows what. She leaned against the wall near the desk Liara sat at.

"So… Funny story. And tell me if you've heard this one. A very young Asari travels to earth during a galactic war, and her commander, friend, and unrequited crush, faces possible death. Provable death. Said Asari decided to sneak in a quickie mating meld without her friend's knowledge."

Liara didn't look up from her terminal. Her body went still, and Aethyta knew it was all true. "Damn, kid. That was bold, even for me, and that's sayin' a lot."

* * *

AN/ Two chapters in one day! Thank you all, my muse is very productive as of late! I think the amazing comments have lit a fire under her bum!

Hubby, you are my beta, magic man! Thank you.


	8. Box of Memories

**Garrus: Box of Memories**

Three hours in his father's skycar gave him time to imagine the contents in the box Shepard had prepared for him. As far as imaginations go, Turians have been uninspiring, and lacked that certain something humans and Asari had when it came to dreaming up the impossible.

Remembering nights in the loft with Jane, she had read some passages from her favorite books. Her love of fiction and fantasy went beyond a general interest; as proof, her datapad storage space had been maxed out with books.

_Here's a good one, she pointed out on her datapad. _

_Jane's voice took on a theatrical tone: "For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much—the wheel, New York, wars and so on—whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man—for precisely the same reasons."_

_So… what this Douglas writer is saying… No, never mind, I have no clue what he's trying to say._

_Her body shook with a soundless laugh. "It's all about perspective, Garrus." _

"_Uh-huh, if you say so. I think this author had a drinking problem. Did humans have Hallex back then? If so, that would explain a lot."_

"_You'd have to read the entire book to appreciate it." _

"_Hmm… How about we make up a few stories of our own tonight, and leave the esteemed Mr. Adams on the bedside table?" _

"_I like the way you think, Vakarian." _

To this day, he'd not read the entire book. She had quoted a few more passages from the long dead author, and he had to admit, some of the man's musings were entertaining.

Cipritine came into view, still a collage of buildings turned into rubble, broken walkways, and bridges. At least the debris has since been cleaned up. Rebuilding, although slow, was moving forward at a steady pace.

Shiny, silver modular buildings had now replaced the beautiful architecture that not so long ago, stood prominently in Cipritine, and were lined up uniformly around the city blocks. Garrus' GPS had the address pinpointed, and he veered the skycar towards a landing pad.

After weaving between several temporary structures, he stopped just outside the outpost where _the box_ had been innocuously awaiting him. Other Turians passed him by, entering the edifice, which now had assumed an ominous foreboding.

_Just go, get it over with._

_Easy for you to say._

_Of course it is, I'm dead, but you're not. Now get your ass in there!_

Oh wait, that wasn't good. Jane's voice now haunting him, and isn't it just typical, she was barking out orders in his head?

Each step into the building was heavier than the last. By the time he made it to the counter, a young receptionist worriedly stared at him.

"Are you all right?" she asked cautiously. "Are you lost?"

Damn. He must be a mess for another Turian to take on concern so quickly.

_You are a mess. I'm getting bored of your melancholy, soldier. _

_Your fault. _

_She snorted. _

_Ghost shouldn't snort. I think it's rude. Maybe there is an afterlife handbook they pass out at the heavenly bar you can refer to. _

His thoughts went silent, at least long enough to clear his throat, and utter a few intelligible words. "Garrus Vakarian. I had a package delivered via the Alliance?"

"Please remove your glove, and press your hand on the identification scanner."

Now she sounded bored.

After the scan was complete, she nodded at the results. "Wait here," she said, even more monotone that before.

When she returned, she hoisted up something much larger than a simple box on to the counter. It was a footlocker, _her footlocker, _and judging by the receptionist's struggle, it was heavy.

"Quite a large package coming all the way from the Sol system," she commented, and looked up at him as if expecting an explanation or story behind it.

Garrus nodded. "I suppose it is, at that. Do I need to sign anything?"

"No," there was that bored tone again. "Your scan covered it. Have a good day Mr. Vakarian."

"You, too," he replied blandly. He hated pleasantries. They never sounded sincere, so what was the point?

_Because, it's polite, and shows you're not some barbarian without manners_.

_Says the woman that head-butts Krogan. _

_True. Now go someplace quiet and stare at the footlocker for hours before you open it. _

_Got me all figured out, do you?_

_Was there ever any question? _

_Quiet, ghost. I have places to be. I can't have you distracting me. _

_As you say. Love ya, babe._

_Love you, too. Now go away. _

Carrying a heavy footlocker with an Alliance symbol embedded on the front got him a few strange gazes. Once loaded into the skycar, he considered where he'd like to go. Home wasn't an option. Sol was so damn nosy, and his father would just scoff if he saw the emblem on the front.

And then an idea struck him. Pulling out his pocket console, he called the Primarch. "Victus, you available?"

"Adrien Victus here. What can I do for you, Vakarian?"

"Know of any temporary lodging in the Capital? I only need a quiet place for a few hours."

After a long pause, the Primarch finally answered. "There's not much available anywhere, Garrus. Can't you take your… entertainment home with you?"

Oh for the love of the Spirits! "It's not like that. I'm alone. I…" he trailed off, not sure what to say.

"Does this have something to do with a certain delivery brought in by the Alliance a few days ago?"

How does he know that? "How… Never mind. And yes, it does. I just want somewhere private, you know."

Another long pause. "I had a vacation house on Lake Digeris. It's demolished, but I have a modular placed there for now. Feel free to use it for as long as you like. I currently have no need of it."

You had to wonder about the Turians and why they would name one of their most beautiful lakes after a planet that held the bloodiest war in their history.

"My map says it's only an hour away. Thanks, Primarch. Can you set the security on the door for me from your location?"

"Already done. I'll send you the code via secure channels. Victus, out."

Only seconds had passed, and the code was sent on the Primarch's secure channel. Now, all he had to do is go.

_Subject: Skycar_

_Dad, I'll be home by morning. I picked up the latest comm pad for you to make up for it. _

_-G_

That was easier than calling him. Now he had a comm pad to buy, and then he could go.

* * *

Palaven flora had been burnt, and the lake was filled with debris floating on its surface. If you looked beyond the large old trees, and scorch marks, you could see new growth peering our behind all the dry, rotten foliage.

_Wish I could see it with you._

_Me too._

Walking away from the lake, he made his way back to the skycar and grabbed the footlocker. Setting the box of mysteries down by the door to the modular house, he punched in the code, and stepped inside once the door slid open.

Not bad. It was simple, a bit sparse, but it was quiet, with no nosy sister to invade his privacy.

_I like her._

_You would. I imagine she would actually like you, too, if she'd been given the chance._

The inner ghost he manifested was either a coping mechanism, or he was truly going insane.

_I vote for insane, with a side of crazy._

_Hush._

_You're the one thinking it, not me. _

That earned him an eye roll, he was sure of it.

_It did, now go do what you came here for. _

_Bossy woman!_

_Yep. _

Setting the footlocker in the center of the lounge, Garrus decided to see if Adrien had any bottles of courage in stock.

Most of the kitchen cabinets were empty, but low and behold, a bottle of Turian whiskey sat alone and proud under the island counter cabinet. Tumblers were stacked on a shelf just above the counter.

With his glass full, he trepidatiously walked over to the box, sat next to it, threw back the entire glass of whiskey, and poured another.

He knew the code already, and slowly punched it in, too slowly. The sequence reset itself, it had a timer on it. He sighed, and started over, this time the lock released. Now all he had to do is open it, right?

_Right_

Ignoring the voice in his head, he tossed back another shot of liquid courage, sat down the tumbler, and ran his talon along the seam of the lid. Not knowing may be worse, so…

The contents inside were random. The first item that drew his attention, her old helmet that she'd found on Alchera, the planet where the SR1 made its grave after the Collectors blew it up. She'd gone on that mission alone, which made everyone edgy.

_I had to. _

_I know_

He set the helmet in his lap, and poured another shot into the tumbler. Next was her newer set of dog tags, badly blackened and burnt. He had the old tags Liara received from Admiral Hackett, and had returned to Jane. She had given them to him as a good luck charm.

_In hindsight, maybe I should have worn those as well. _

_Or not have gone off alone to that damn beam. _

Huh. The ghost wasn't going to argue that point. He still felt he was right, her decision wasn't the correct one. He should have been with her.

He decided to wear these tags as well, and slipped the chain over his head, and it settled in by the original ones.

Reaching in, he pulled out a satchel with an audio pad, and a credit chit. He pressed play.

_Normandy SR2. _

_We've just finished blasting Cerberus HQ into space particles. That bastard is going to pay for all the suffering he's caused all species in the galaxy. I just wish I knew where he was. Something tells me I'll see him again before this is all over. _

_The credit chit is loaded, and I mean loaded! EDI hacked the mainframe, and the asshole is poor as dirt, at least with that account. Take the credits and do something good with them, Garrus. I know you'll think of something. There should be some good come from all the bad that creepy asshat has done. _

Purely out of curiosity, Garrus scanned the credit chit, and when the balance came up, he nearly choked on the air around him.

_There's a whole lot of refugees with no homes, food, or supplies. This could certainly help. _

_See, I knew you'd think of something. _

A few of her most favorite model ships were protectively wrapped, and… ha! Her state of the art music player from the SR2.

_You know me so well. _

_That I do. _

Neatly folded and protected in a polymer bag, was her N7 hoodie. She wore that thing whenever she was on shore leave, or in her casual regulations uniform.

Reverently, he slipped it out of the bag and brought it to his face. Her scent tickled his senses, and instead of it making him sad, he felt… better. It smelled of thermal clip residue, her soap, and her human fragrance.

_I really miss you something awful, Jane. _

_I know._

The ghost in his head sounded sad.

After going through the rest of the items, Garrus kept the hoodie out, and a couple of halos she'd recorded.

_Thank you._

_You're welcome._

He needed to sleep off the whiskey buzz, so he took the halos with him to the couch, and pressed play. Her voiced lulled him into a very pleasant dream.

* * *

Credit: Douglas Adams - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

To everyone. Thank you for following, favorites, and leaving wonderful comments. Even if you'd only stopped by!

To my hubby, You rock the beta Casbah!


	9. Feron: Justicar Code

**Feron: Justicar Code**

After Falere's joke, or perhaps she was serious, Feron wasn't sure; he found the library she'd given him directions to, and to his surprise, there were real volumes. They smelled old, and coated with Lesuss' strange dust particles. Each row of books had a console terminal stationed at small desks before each isle of shelving units.

He had to wonder if the books had been merely catalogued, or if he were lucky enough, the books themselves had been put into the terminals. And for once, luck favored him today.

Hours had passed by while he read, and the Justicar code, although quite direct, had several offshoots for each grievance. The penalties for each infraction were listed, and sub-sentencing for every branch that followed. What seemed most interesting, though, was the fact a Justicar took no circumstances into account, and doled out punishment for the offense committed—no matter what.

In the scant amount of time he'd spent with Samara, Feron always felt a sense of calm tranquility, and sheer clarity. When she spoke, she felt there was something important to say, and she didn't indulge in pointless banter. Her voice was cool, serene with an aura of authority prominently at the forefront. You simply wanted to follow orders, even if she'd _ask_ politely.

On occasion, he gave thanks to whatever god would listen that Samara hadn't met him during some of his more… code worthy moments. There was no room for moral ambiguity.

Some would say recovering Shepard's body and handing it over to Cerberus crossed the line. She saved them all in the end, and the lines between right and wrong became blurry after that. The Justicar would have turned him to dust, and not troubled herself with questions, before or after. But would she now?

A particular passage gave him pause

_To covet and regard one's child as your own, the code is clear: Child abduction is an offense equal to murder. To steal another's child, is to change the lives of many, thusly, selfishly disregarding said child's true future._

He searched further, finding the list of sub-rules. Nothing he found directly stated that the lack of consent was against the code.

_How had she remembered all of this stuff? Or did she use her own judgement as she went along?_

Immediately his thoughts turned to Liara. Could it be construed as the same, melding and procreating without the agreement of the _donor_? He had no idea what else to call Shepard's part in all this, and saying she was a donor made him cringe. It _felt_ disrespectful. She technically had no part in it because she was completely unaware, and hadn't given her permission. Would that be considered theft? Would that child be seen as unlawfully conceived? Is Liara a thief in that regard?

_There was no room for moral ambiguity. _The thought again echoed in his mind. Perhaps there were no precedence for this sort of reproduction? Throughout history, women found themselves in the family way without planning to, and many men have never been the wiser, the female choosing not to tell the other parent—maybe because they were no longer together—or the other parent wasn't suitable…

Semantics. He knew this was splitting hairs, searching for acceptable gray areas, where a Justicar would see none.

What's worse, Samara held Shepard in high regard. Very high. And for a Justicar to do so, it took a special sort of individual to be held as such in the eyes of a Justicar. The commander had been exactly that sort of special in the eyes of an entire galaxy.

Nearly jumping out of his seat, a soft voice behind him caused an irrational panic, well, maybe not so irrational after learning more about how the ancient code worked.

"Took my advice seriously, I see," Falere said with a slight teasing in her voice. "When you cohabitate with one like my mother, understanding those codes can be a survival handbook."

"Yes…" Feron agreed with caution. Had she seen what part he'd been reading? The fact that Liara's infant would soon be born—would it send a curious alert to Samara's daughter? "I fear if your mother had met me in the past, we'd not be having this conversation. Or _any_ conversation, for that matter."

"That so?" she asked curiously, though he detected a note of mischief in her voice. "It's a good thing she only acts on what she witnesses, and not on hearsay."

Feron contemplated that for a moment. "What about irrefutable evidence?"

Falere stepped off to the side, taking a desk chair to his right, and situated herself conversationally. "It is only irrefutable if she's the observer. There are no chances for mistakes with a Justicar. They never risk corruption, or possible shady motives."

Undeniably, Feron felt relief wash over him. Liara though… the pending birth, the mysteries, and deception were potentially laid bare for the Justicar to see.

"You're deep in thought," Falere observed. He couldn't deny her keen surveillance with his mind racing with worry. "I'm a good listener, and I won't judge."

He knew the smile he afforded her was weak, and pathetically masked his concerns. "It's nothing," he claimed feebly. "I think I'm going a little stir-crazy in this place, is all."

Sorrowfully, Falere sighed. There had been so much weight in that little sound, he noticed. "Aside from the first few decades of my life, when I was considered but a child, this is the only place I've been. The only place I'll ever be."

"I'm sorry," Feron said sincerely. "It was thoughtless of me to complain."

She shrugged. "It is not a life you are bound to. You can leave whenever you wish."

But he knew that wasn't true, either, not entirely. Even if he were to abandon Liara, he had no way off the planet—and he knew he'd not leave her under the current circumstances. Although at this point, he honestly couldn't say why. A debt, perhaps, but those dues went both ways between them.

Changing the subject, effectively changing his thoughts seemed like a good idea. "May I ask something personal?"

Falere snorted. "Let me guess. What's it like being an Ardat-Yakshi?" She asked, bemused. "Oh, very original of you."

Feron felt his frills warm, and he knew the color would have brightened. "Never mind. It was a stupid question, and insensitive."

Another one of her unhappy sighs made him feel even worse for asking. But she cleared her throat, and when she spoke, it had been like listening to a story teller of his people. The monks that spent their time in meditation, and contemplation.

She folded her hands and placed them on the desk. There was no eye contact, she appeared to have found a focal point to steady herself. "The first time I felt the urge—desire to kill, it terrified me. I had met a young turian soldier, and he was sweet, smart, and regaled me with all his plans for the future. Experimentally, we held hands, kissed, and stole away to find a private area far from prying eyes to enjoy the blossoming feelings we'd developed. He was my first crush, I suppose. And—and that's when it triggered. The beast within reared its ugly head," she said sardonically.

Falere took to pacing, running her fingers across the spines of the books as she trekked through the aisles of shelves. "My mother had hope, hope that I would not be like my sisters. She believed she saw something in me, a strength, and a compassion that my sisters never seemed to have possessed. I was close to Rila, though… my sister's desires to flee this place were shared with me on several occasions. She believed we could live like normal beings as long as we didn't allow ourselves the frivolities of intimacy."

She stopped her pacing, now standing right next to him. She looked down into his eyes, and to his credit, and restraint, he didn't defensively flinch this time. "She was wrong of course. Intimacy and our desire to drain the life from another are synonymous. We're unable to compartmentalize the two sensations and separate them."

Kneeling down, Falere sat back on her heels and looked upwards at him. "I've never taken a life. Not even when the commandos came to purge this place," she confessed solemnly. "I believe Commander Shepard thought it was a possibility that Rila and I wiped out the commandos. Truth be told, we may be biotics, but we're awful at combat. The Reapers took those asari out quickly. Rila and I have been here for centuries, we knew where to hide."

Feron found himself deep in rapt attention. All the monsters he'd faced with no affliction like Falere's, who chose to be an abomination; he honestly felt life dealt this asari a cruel hand. He was under no delusion that life was fair, but this—this… and why would Samara continue to bear more children after knowing she'd already had one Ardat-Yakshi? Worse yet, she had a second one, and still, it hadn't stopped her from trying a third time.

Angrily, Feron grumbled under his breath. "I think the Justicar has her own morality and actions to answer for."

"I do, too," she replied softly. "I ask myself, which is worse? Never existing, or being alive, and living this way."

"Have you come up with an answer?"

Falere bowed her head for a moment. When she looked back up, a single tear settled and glistened in her eyelash. Before she turned away, her answer was simple. "No."

He watched her walk away, and out of sight. He'd realized her pain gave him a sliver of enlightenment.

_If you expect her to be a monster—chances are she'll be what you expect._

Aethyta's insight, though surprising, reverberated loudly in his mind. He'd taken a liking to Liara's father. She had centuries of experience and stories to tell. And even though she was rough around the edges, and had no filters from brain to mouth, the matriarch hid a lot of sound wisdom.

_Be cautious. Hell, you'd be an idiot not to. But something tells me she'd make a decent friend. _

The advice was sound, if she'd not ruined it in the end.

_And don't go trying to tap that little blue ass. Not unless you want to be a rainbow smear on the floor. _

"Feron," Liara called over his personal comm. "There is something wrong with Glyph. Do you think Falere can take a look?"

"What happened?" he asked while walking in the direction Falere had taken when she left the library."

"I'm not sure. It said it was being attacked by an unknown program, and it shut down. I can't seem to reactivate it. I've went through all manual protocols."

"I'm looking for Falere now. I'll be there soon. Feron out."

_Stupid drone. _


End file.
